Thor Never Aims in the Same Place Twice
by Faye M.A
Summary: ...Unless your name is Snotlout Jorgenson! A series of short oneshots explaining the mysterious ramblings of a lightning-stricken Viking and the only person who can understand him.
1. Chapter 1

_Hello there! Welcome to a little series of oneshots co-written by myself and the illustrious Curly Q's! Like all of our co-written fics, they're all for laughs and fun times. So please enjoy! *Obligatory disclaimer: Neither of us owns any of this, though we wouldn't turn down the opportunity to write for Dreamworks. You know. If they ever come knocking...*_

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><p>"Put your back into it!"<p>

Snotlout grumbled, gritting his teeth. He threw the ax again, watching in disappointment as the blade failed to lodge into the sturdy tree. Spitelout folded his arms, frustration and anger mixing in his features—an expression with which Snotlout was very familiar. The rain drenching his tunic and running into his eyes did nothing to help his mood either.

Spitelout marched up to the tree and picked up the weapon from the ground. "Time is running out, son," he growled. "I set sail for the Dragon's Nest at first light tomorrow, which means you go to dragon training." He brandished the ax at his son. "If you can't get this into a tree, how are you ever going to get it into a dragon's back?"

Thunder rolled overhead, obscuring what Snotlout muttered.

"What was that?" his father snapped.

"I said I'll try harder next time," Snotlout said with added emphasis. He snatched the ax from his father, tightening his grip and raising it overhead for another throw.

_Crack!_

A blinding flash sliced through the gloomy atmosphere of the woods. As quickly as it had come, it vanished, leaving Snotlout and Spitelout both blinking from its intensity.

"Gleenarb?" Snotlout asked.

At that, Spitelout rubbed his temples and grimaced. "We're done for today," he said, shaking his head once and holding out his hand for his son's ax.

"Schmagee!" Snotlout cried out, clutching the ax closer. "Schmagee!"

Spitelout let slip a small chuckle, easily wresting the ax from his son's hands. "Don't worry," he said. "Being struck by lightning is something of a rite of passage in a young Viking's life. It'll wear off in a few hours. By the time the storm blows over, you'll be fine."

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><p>Later that afternoon, Snotlout sat on the docks, swinging his legs absently. The storm had blown over; he was not fine. From behind him, he heard Mulch's footsteps, but he didn't bother turning around.<p>

"Lovely afternoon, 'eh Snotlout?" Mulch called, climbing into his boat.

Snotlout crossed his arms. "Norfblort," he grumbled.

"Ah, I couldn't agree more," Mulch chirped. "I just love the way the air smells after a storm." He swung a heavy pack over his shoulder, heading back up the dock.

Snotlout followed him with his eyes, mouth hanging slightly open. He shrugged it off. "Dweenarb."

For a while, he sat in peace, occasionally saying something to test his speech for normalcy. His calm was interrupted, however, when Tuffnut flopped unceremoniously next to him. "Hey," he grunted. A moment of uncomfortable silence passed, during which Snotlout focused very hard on not speaking.

"Well…aren't you going to say hey back?" Tuff supplied.

Snotlout simply glared.

"What's the matter?" Terrible Terror got your tongue?" Tuff laughed at himself. "Eighth birthday—nailed it. Actually, I wouldn't recommend it. Unless you're into that sort of thing."

The silence grew more and more awkward. Eventually, Snotlout rolled his eyes. "Plessel," he muttered.

"What?" Tuffnut questioned.

"Plessel, dweenarb," Snotlout snapped.

"Hey, there's that word again!" Tuff smiled. "Never heard it before. What's it mean?"

Snotlout let out a guttural growl and threw up his hands in frustration. "Norfblort! Norfblort! Plessel!" With that, he stood up and stormed away.

Tuffnut waved after him. "Great talk, man! See you tomorrow in dragon training!"


	2. Chapter 2

_Part 2! Also, side note: these are chronological, though they're not accounting for every time Snotlout has ever been struck by lightning (because we didn't feel like writing twelve oneshots). They're more picking one occasion here and another one there, with gaps of time between. :-)_

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><p>"Ratsel flatzel, schmeckel-blort," Snotlout mumbled, taking another swig of mead. It had been six months since he had last been struck by lightning; the situation was no less aggravating .<p>

Astrid turned to him. "What did you say?"

He waved it off like it was nothing, and Astrid shrugged. "So anyway," she continued with her story, "there I was—face to face with this huge Deadly Nadder, and—"

Snotlout tried to tune her out; he had been there, and the story was not that interesting. However, it was only a few bites of chicken later that he heard words that struck fear into the very core of his being:

"What do you think, Snotlout?"

He wasn't sure if Tuffnut was trying to bait him or if he was actually just that clueless. Either way, he opened and closed his mouth a few times like a beached fish, eventually snapping it shut and letting out a strangled groan.

By now, everybody was looking at him. "Eh…schmegeu?" he tried.

"What?" Hiccup asked, but Snotlout promptly shoved another bite of food—one that was far too large—into his mouth.

Stoick chuckled as he approached from behind them, slapping Snotlout hard on the back. "Struck by lightning? Happens to the best of us."

"Some more than others," Gobber interjected.

"Wait, so there's a way to fix it?" Astrid asked.

"Why would you want to?" Ruffnut interrupted.

Gobber shrugged noncommittally. "Different things work for different people. It's really more of a trial-and-error process."

"Could he get hit again?" Fishlegs asked.

"Thor never aims in the same place twice." Ruff rolled her eyes. "Duh."

Snotlout shuddered involuntarily.

"Could we treat him with herbs?" Astrid asked.

"Throw rocks at him?" Ruffnut's eyes lit up.

"Yeah!" Tuff added. "Really big ones! Like boulders!"

"Norfblort! Norfblort!" Snotlout cried out, jumping up from the table, prepared to run at a moment's notice.

"Guys," Hiccup interrupted. "As much as I'd love to throw rocks at Snotlout—"

"Dweenarb," Snotlout grumbled.

"—let's just allow time to do what it does best," Hiccup finished.

There was a moment before Gobber just shrugged. "The rocks worked on Spitelout."


	3. Chapter 3

"The troll went…that way." Tuffnut pointed with mystical added flair.

"Are you sure?" Ruffnut asked. "'Cause last time, you got us lost for a whole day."

"Of course I'm sure! I'm always sure! I'm Tuffnut. It means 'sure.'"

"Whatever. But next time, I pick the direction."

They wandered through the woods a bit, when Tuffnut abruptly stopped. "Do you hear that?" he whispered, holding up his hands dramatically.

"Hear what?" Ruffnut scoffed. "The sound of your brain working overtime?"

"Ssh." Tuffnut put a hand over her face. As he crept closer to the bush, he crooned, "Here, little troll…"

Then, with a crashing noise, he lunged through the bushes and grabbed what he thought was a troll. Snotlout screamed as Tuffnut yanked on his ankle. "Glorpsink flagoo!" Snotlout yelled, pushing Tuffnut away.

"Wow, Snotlout," Tuff started. "I thought you were a troll."

"Dweenarb," Snotlout said, punching Tuffnut in the arm for good measure.

"Wait," Tuff said. "You're doing that thing again!"

"The dumb thing?" Ruff put in.

"No, no!" Tuff iterated. "The lightning thing! It means something—like he's trying to communicate with us."

Snotlout groaned. "Dweenarb."

"Like that!" Tuffnut gestured at Snotlout. "That one clearly means 'handsome.'"

"Norfblort."

"And that clearly means 'no.'"

Immediately, Snotlout grabbed Tuffnut by his shoulders, shaking him excitedly. "Graffnap! Graffnap!"

"Does that one mean 'yes?'" Ruff tried.

Tuffnut shrugged. "I dunno. Never heard it before."

Snotlout huffed. "Dweenarb."

"Oh thank you," Tuffnut preened. "I think I'm pretty handsome myself. I mean, it's probably got something to do with the air of confidence that surrounds me every day, or—"

With a cry of "Norfringle scarfelblorg!" Snotlout jumped him, punching him in unbridled annoyance. As the two of them scuffed around on the ground, Ruffnut watched, disinterested. "Uh—the one you think means 'handsome?' I think it means 'moron.'"

From the midst of the tousle, Snotlout yelled, "Graffnap!"

"Thank you very much," Ruff said. "You know, I'm not as dumb as you think I am, Tuffnut."

"Snordvark, Snordvark, nork nork nork!"

"See?" Ruff grinned. "I got that one!"


	4. Chapter 4

_Just a quick orienting note: They're probably something like 17 years old at this point. Just in case you're wondering about some of the characterization. :-)_

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><p>Astrid folded her arms. "I'm confused. Run the rules by me one more time."<p>

"It's easy," Ruffnut started. "The training floor is lava, and you have to hop between the islands to not burn up."

"If you touch the ground, you die," Tuffnut supplemented.

Ruffnut nodded and continued dramatically: "If you do touch the lava, the only antidote to avoid a horrible, painful, burning, mangled, charbroiled death is…" She looked around the arena, aiming a deliberate stare at each wide-eyed Viking. "Chugging an entire tankard of Shivering Sven's mead!"

"Shivering Sven?" Astrid interjected. "My mom says he died like, thirty years ago."

"Hey, he isn't gonna miss it, then," Tuffnut reasoned.

Fishlegs started wringing his hands. "This sounds incredibly dangerous."

"Really? Because I was thinking it sounded incredibly stupid," Hiccup said.

"Just try it," Tuffnut suggested. "It's better than toss-the-sheep."

Instantly, Fishlegs gasped and covered Meatlug's ears protectively. "Don't worry, girl; he didn't mean it."

"Um, yeah he did." Ruffnut knit her eyebrows in confusion.

"Come on." Tuffnut's voice rose impatiently. "Are we gonna play this game or what?"

"No games today." Stoick's voice boomed through the arena.

Hiccup sighed in relief. "Thank you, dad," he muttered under his breath.

Shrewdly, Astrid leaned over and whispered, "Don't worry—there's always tomorrow."

Hiccup cleared his throat uncomfortably. Thankfully, nobody had heard it, because Stoick had already begun. "We've been receiving reports of unmarked ships getting close to our borders. We're not sure who they are or what they want, but if it's Dagur, we've got bigger problems." Stoick looked at his son. "I was hoping to get the Academy's help with this."

"Of course," Hiccup replied. "We'll have dragons in the air in a few minutes."

Stoick clapped a hand on the younger man's shoulder. "Thank you, son." He glanced around at the group. "Where's Snotlout?" he inquired.

"Who knows?" Hiccup shrugged.

"Who _cares_?" Astrid sounded a little too nonchalant as she jokingly chuffed Hiccup's shoulder.

"Well," Stoick told them, "be sure to relay the information to him. The last thing I need is an earful from Spitelout about this."

"We've got it covered, dad," Hiccup reassured as his father left them to plan.

"Four dragons—four sides of the island. Easy!" Fishlegs said.

"Right," Hiccup agreed. "Fish, take the north. Ruff, Tuff—you're on south."

"No I'm not. I'm on Barf," Ruff interrupted, sounding genuinely confused and gesturing up toward her dragon's head.

"We don't even have a dragon named 'South.'" Tuff crossed his arms.

"Flagee! Flagee! Flagee!" Snotlout yelled and flailed his arms in a very uncoordinated fashion as Hookfang swooped into the arena.

"Aaand now there are five dragons," Fishlegs began. "And four sectors. This won't work out."

"We could cut Snotlout in half," Ruffnut pointed out. "When you're late, that's what you get!"

"Someone's just going to have to team up," Astrid offered.

"Well, we know who _that's_ going to be," Fishlegs muttered.

"Yeah, because Nadders and Night Furies can't _ever_ fly separately," Tuffnut scoffed. "Everyone knows Nadders can't see in the dark."

"It's daytime, in case you hadn't noticed." Ruffnut thrust a pointed finger upward. "The big yellow one is the sun."

"Breaking some new ground there, Copernicus," Tuff retaliated.

"Oh yeah? How about I break _your_ ground?" Ruff shouted, smashing her helmet into Tuff's and pulling hard on a lock of his hair.

"Guys," Hiccup interceded, "it's not that big a deal. I can just go with Astrid. No problem."

Everyone stared at him.

"What?"

"Oh nothing," Fishlegs said. "Just a little pattern we keep seeing."

"Graffnap," Snotlout agreed, extending a hand for a hearty high-five from Fishlegs, who only gaped uncertainly.

Tuffnut stepped forward. "Since Snotlout's doing the lightning-talking thing again, why doesn't he fly with us? I mean, I'm the only one who can understand him."

"Or maybe you're putting words into his mouth," Astrid muttered.

"Norfblort," Snotlout asserted, crossing his arms.

Tuff gestured at Snotlout. "Norfblort means no," he said, and Snotlout confirmed this with a silent thumbs-up. "When he wants to say yes, he says 'graffnap,'" Tuff added.

"Anything else?" Astrid probed.

"Wouldn't you like to know," Tuff scoffed, turning away.

Hiccup slid off of Toothless, approaching Tuffnut directly. "Tuff," he tried, "this could be really important for all of us to know—"

"Why?" Tuff demanded. "So you can go fly off with your girlfriend?"

Hiccup choked on his words for a moment. "Okay, I can't believe you—I—first of all," he began, "she's not my girlfriend. And second, this is really important, Tuff. There are unmarked ships out there, and, if we can't communicate, people could die."

"Not me," Tuff countered. "And not Ruff. And not Snordvark here." He gestured to Snotlout.

"Eh…nano," Snotlout said.

"Thank you! I thought it was a good point too!" Tuff glared at Hiccup. "What's in it for me?" he asked.

Hiccup threw up his hands in frustration. "Unbelievable!"

Defensive, Astrid took a step forward. "What's gotten into you, Tuffnut?" she asked.

"Well, maybe I'm just tired of never being the important one!" Tuff shouted angrily, advancing on her.

Hiccup grabbed Astrid's arm and pulled her away before anything could happen. "Oh fine!" he yelled. "Have it your way! We're going this way." He threw a hand out at the sky in a vague motion. "You guys…pick somewhere else!" With that, he mounted Toothless and took off, Astrid following closely behind.

"Typical," Tuffnut grumbled, climbing onto Belch. "C'mon, Ruff, Snordvark. We're going this way." The Zippleback and the Nightmare flew off in the opposite direction of the other two dragons.

In the residual quiet of the arena, Fishlegs finally found his voice again. "Um…guys?" he called to thin air. "Am I still going north? Guys?"

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><p><em>AN: Curly Q's and I also do not own Brian Regan, though we think he's quite hilarious. Props to anyone who caught the reference!_


	5. Chapter 5

Even though they had experienced it for three winters, it was still comforting to see the annual dragon migrations and not fear the threat of an imminent raid. Still, it was no less intimidating to see countless Monstrous Nightmares and Timberjacks soaring over the village.

With a grunt, Stoick stacked seven large logs on top of the ever-growing pile against the side of his home. He pointed to the sky as a Timberjack eclipsed the sun. "Wonder where they're off to."

Panting, Hiccup rolled a single log to the bottom of the pile. "Migration…every year. Timberjacks go north—" he flung an arm in a general northward direction. "Nightmares go south."

Stoick chuckled. "You'd think all their fire would keep them warm."

"Well, apparently not." Hiccup sighed, tired from the day's work.

"You don't know?" Stoick seemed surprised at his son's lack of information. "I thought you knew everything about dragons."

"Not everything," Hiccup qualified, wincing a bit as he stretched his back. "Snotlout's the real Nightmare expert."

Stoick shouldered his ax, preparing to head back to the forest for more wood. "Why don't you talk to Snotlout? Get more facts for the Book of Dragons?"

"Talk? To Snotlout?" Hiccup shook his head. "Extremely dangerous; kill on sight." He made to follow his father, but Stoick held up a hand.

"You can stay for now, Hiccup," Stoick said warmly. "Rest a little bit."

"Oh, really?" Hiccup said, a bit surprised. "You're sure? Because, you know, I was definitely about to tell you that I was…erm…really…sore." Stoick laughed good-naturedly as he walked away, and Toothless nudged Hiccup in the back. "Don't worry about me, bud," he said. "It's only a matter of time until we get you dragons to help out with all this."

From around the side of the house, Snotlout strutted up to the pile of logs. "Oh, would you look who it is," Hiccup muttered.

"Snaffle, Hickeu," Snotlout said. Then, with a self-assured grin, he lifted the top log from the pile and raised it over his head in a shoulder press. As Hiccup watched, unamused, Snotlout shifted the log to one hand, curling it up and down.

With a groan, Hiccup asked, "Are you here to make fun of me?"

Shaking his head but still curling the wood, Snotlout replied, "Norfblort."

"Are you here to…assert your dominance?" Hiccup tried.

Snotlout hesitated, then laughed. "Norfblort. Woolsnip flagoo."

"Are you here to annoy me?"

"Eh…maggle," Snotlout returned with a catlike grin. Subtly, Toothless nudged up against Snotlout, causing him to drop the log on his foot. "Fragnard drango!" Snotlout cried, clutching his foot in pain.

While his cousin hopped on his good foot, Hiccup rolled his eyes. "I really hate it when my foot hurts," he mused sarcastically. "Especially the left one." Snotlout shot a pointed glare in Hiccup's general direction. "Toothless and I are headed to the forge to see if Gobber needs any help." He eyed Snotlout. "You should probably come too."

"Schmagee."

"I seriously doubt that," Hiccup mumbled. "Whatever you said, I seriously doubt it."

They had barely made it to the town square when they were nearly stampeded by panicking Vikings. The dragon riders were looking around, searching for the source of the commotion, when somebody yelled, "Nightmare! Get down!"

Confused, Hiccup jumped on Toothless, Snotlout following. "They haven't been this scared in a while," Hiccup said apprehensively. "I wonder what's going on."

"Rondel scorfore," Snotlout announced while Toothless took to the air. As they flew over the square, they saw a series of small fires surrounding two Monstrous Nightmares, one considerably smaller than the other.

"Nakfoo!" Snotlout cried. "Nakfoo!"

"Uh…okay," Hiccup said, patting Toothless' neck. "Dive, bud."

As soon as Toothless' feet hit the ground, Snotlout was off, running between the two Nightmares, arms outstretched to keep them apart. "No, Snotlout!" Hiccup called after him. "You're going to get hurt!"

Snotlout wasn't paying him any attention, only yelling "Nakfoo!" over and over as he tried to separate the dragons. Hiccup jumped to the ground, following Snotlout. "They don't understand you," he asserted. "They don't know the words! We—" Hiccup froze as he realized what it was they needed. He turned abruptly to Toothless, saying, "Go get Tuffnut!" Without protest, Toothless hurried off.

It wasn't long before the Night Fury reached the Thorston residence. Ruffnut opened the door. "Oh, hey Toothless!" The dragon paid her no heed and pushed right past her. "Okay! Bye, Toothless!"

Toothless nosed a sleeping Tuffnut awake, whining urgently.

"Alright, alright," Tuffnut said groggily. "What do you want, Toothless?"

Toothless pawed the ground in a concerned manner and warbled. "Oh, cute," Tuff noted. "Too bad I don't speak dragon."

Almost at the mention of the word, Toothless jerked his head toward the door, moaning impatiently.

"You wanna go flying?" Tuff asked. "I mean, I guess Hiccup would be okay with—"

He was interrupted by a loud howl.

"Ugh, your breath stinks! You don't need to be so cranky about it."

Before Tuffnut could say anything else, Toothless grabbed the hem of his tunic and dragged him out the door.

"Alright!" Tuffnut cried happily. "I like this game! Let's go!" Toothless grunted in frustration, pulling Tuffnut the entire way to the square, where Hiccup and Snotlout were trying unsuccessfully to calm the dragons.

"Woah, what's going on here?" Tuff asked, bewildered.

"Tuffnut!" Hiccup yelled, pushing the smaller dragon back as hard as he could. "Translate! Now!"

"Uh…translate what?"

"Nakfoo!" Snotlout yelled, and Tuffnut understood.

"Hookfang!" he called out, making sense of Snotlout's gibberish. Immediately, the larger dragon paused, listening.

Snotlout continued. "Schnizel, fragnard drango!"

"Snap out of it, you stupid dragon!"

"Nadfel frackle! Plessel, Nakfoo!"

"This isn't your fight! Enough, Hookfang!"

"Magnar norfblort schmagee!"

"His migration didn't go right!"

"Lorfblat!"

"He's lost!"

As Tuffnut translated, the two Nightmares calmed, backing away from each other and listening intently. Quietly, Snotlout placed his hand on Hookfang's nose, and Hiccup did the same with the other.

As quickly as the situation had arisen, it dissipated, the younger dragon shooting off into the clouds and leaving a placid Hookfang behind. Toothless warbled and shoved his snout under Hiccup's arm. "He'll be fine," Hiccup said. "He'll find his way."

Slowly, he turned and stared blankly at Tuffnut. "What in the name of Thor's infected hangnail did you just do?"

Tuffnut shrugged and threw an arm over Snotlout's shoulders. "I speak Post-Lightning Snotlout," he said simply.

Snotlout rolled his eyes in spite of his small grin. "Dweenarb. Pero…graffnap."

Hiccup nodded weakly. Then, ignoring Snotlout, he said to Tuffnut, "Thank Odin you do."


End file.
